


A Boy Soldier

by ThunderAirborne



Series: Depressing Descriptive Writing [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Child Abuse, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1823299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderAirborne/pseuds/ThunderAirborne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man walks into a room to see a boy found earlier that day and finds something that he could have never imagined and disgusts him to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Boy Soldier

As soon as I walked into the room, I froze. I was disgusted by what I saw in front of me. Nobody should look like that, much less a boy.

In front of me stood a boy, no more than sixteen, He stood, rigid, about 5'7. His back was completely straight, his hands clasped behind him. His feet were parallel and his eyes... they were completely devoid of emotion. They were dead, ice blue eyes.

His face had lost any hint of baby fat which made his cheekbones sharper and jaw seem stronger. His hair fell over one of his eyes and he didn't make any move to put it back in place. He actually stood as if any movement was forbidden.

The worst part wasn't even that the way he held himself screamed 'soldier'. It was that he didn't flinch or show any sign of pain.

For not an inch of his bare chest lack bruise, burn or laceration.

'How old are you?' I had to ask.

'Fourteen, sir.' he replied. I flinched, his voice was as dead as his eyes.

'What's your name?'

'I can't tell you that sir.'

'What can I call you then?'

'They called me Ice, sir.'

'Who's they?'

'The men and Dragon, sir.'

'Where were you, when you were with them?'

'Hell, sir.'

My eyes widened. Hell was the name of the base where the best soldiers ever trained came from.

And a fourteen year old boy had to go through it.

'Why?' I found myself asking.

'Punishment, sir.'

'For what?'

Being born, sir.'


End file.
